


Hate Does, Too

by SilenceIsGolden15



Series: The Kennerya Trilogy [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Diplomacy, Fantastic Racism, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kinda?, Missions Gone Wrong, Pack, Platonic Cuddling, Poisoning, Racism, Sick Keith (Voltron), Team as Family, Touch-Starved Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 13:53:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15887364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceIsGolden15/pseuds/SilenceIsGolden15
Summary: Still in the same system as the Aranthir, the Paladins free another planet and attend the usual celebrations. However, one disgruntled person in power is about to prove to them that Allura wasn't the only person upset about having a Galra paladin.





	Hate Does, Too

**Author's Note:**

> For the person who wanted to hear Keith purr.... your wish is my command.

After compiling all possible evidence and analyzing all available variables, Pidge has come to the definitive conclusion that this planet  _ also _ sucks. 

The Aranthir, for an unknown reason, hadn’t been conquered by the Galra. But several other planets in their system had been, and that’s why the team found themselves still in the same system three weeks after the kennerya incident, taking back planet after planet and enjoying (or in Keith and Pidge’s case, enduring) the celebrations that followed. 

The fourth and final planet that needed liberating was the largest, and also the most fortified. So fortified, in fact, that they’d had to call in the Blades to sabotage the defenses before they could make their advance. The attack had gone well, the planet had been freed, and that was how Pidge wound up here. 

Here, as it turned out, was the hot surface of a desert planet that reminded her distinctly of the land around the Garrison, all red rocks and towering canyons. A far cry from the jungle the Aranthir made their home in. The team was assembled before the lions, sweating in their armor as they waited to be led into the royal palace for the official beginnings of talks to allow this planet into the Coalition. 

“God, this planet is the worst.” Lance whined, dramatically drawing a forearm across his cheek. “I’m literally melting.”

“This is no worse than the jungle planet.” Pidge retorted. Having gathered the temperature data herself, she knew for a fact that this planet was actually a couple of degrees cooler than the jungle one. “At least it’s not humid here.”

“Dry heat is worse than humidity.”

From behind them came a snort as Keith joined the conversation. “Are you joking? Humidity is awful.”

Pidge can’t help but smile. If this had been happening only a few short weeks before, Keith probably wouldn’t have chimed in, keeping his thoughts to himself until someone indicated they wanted his input. But since the kennerya bite had forced them all to bond more closely, he’d been more outgoing, less afraid to interact with the other paladins that weren’t Shiro. It was nice to see. 

Lance opened his mouth to retort, but was cut short by one of their hosts emerging from the structure before them, thin body draped in billowing crimson robes. 

The inhabitants of this planet called themselves the Nelethe, and they bore almost no resemblance to the Aranthir besides their (excessive, in Pidge’s opinion) height. The Nelethe walked on two limbs, their bodies tall and thin like some renderings of aliens from Earth. Their skin was the same dusty pink as the surrounding sand, big black eyes staring out at them from underneath tall foreheads. Slightly creepy if truth be told, but at least they talked with their mouths rather than weird empathic abilities. 

“Greetings and welcomes, Paladins.” Said the alien that greeted them, their mouth forming a strange grimace that was probably their version of a smile and spreading their arms wide. “The Queen is ready to receive you now. Please, follow.”

The Nelethe turned, and the paladins obediently followed them inside. The battle had finished the day before, so they were cleaned up from the scrapes and scruffs of battle, armor gleaming. But it didn’t gleam nearly as much as the polished stone floor of the royal palace. 

The building was carved into the side of a canyon, but there was no indication of the past ragged edges that must have made it up at some point. In their place were tall graceful pillars, carved with swirling designs that glowed softly green in the slight shadow of the underground castle. The walls between the pillars were just as polished as the floor, so much so that Pidge could see the blurs of white reflected back as they walked down the long entry hall. 

At the end of the hall was a set of large double doors, a pair of extra large and ornate pillars on either side. The alien guiding them slowly pushed the doors open, either because they were heavy or for extra dramatic flair. Beyond was a circular room, polished floors foregone for more intricate carvings, in the center of which sat the queen of the Nelethe, stately and regal in a silver gown. 

They began to file into the room, one by one passing between the guardian pillars. Allura, Shiro, Hunk, Lance, Pidge, and finally Keith. Or it would have been. 

Pidge heard his step echo through the hall like all of theirs were, but between one step and the next, a low angry buzz filled the air. Reacting immediately to danger like the soldier she’d become, Pidge spun on her heel just in time to the see the carvings on the twin pillars light up bright red. 

The next moment a shield slammed down between her and Keith, the same color as his lion, crackling with electricity and trapping him in the entry hall. The other paladins gave cries of alarm and rushed forward, only to receive zaps to any appendage that came too close to the shield. 

“What the hell?” Keith growled. Pidge glanced around, looking for some sort of control box or power source, only to notice all of the guards in their brown leather armor were facing them, spears pointed in their direction. 

She wasn’t the only one who noticed. Shiro had his hands up, looking confused but also primed to leap into battle at any moment, while Allura faced down the queen with all the dignity her own royal rearing granted her. 

“What is the meaning of this?” She demanded. The Queen frowned but didn’t answer, and one of the nearby guards spoke up. 

“The Pillars detect Galra.” He snarled, black eyes narrowing and showing off pointed teeth. “It is how we have protected our palace for so long against  _ spies  _ like this one!” 

“He’s not a spy!” Pidge cried, offended on Keith’s behalf while he stood on the other side of the barrier with a shell shocked expression. 

“She speaks the truth.” Proclaimed Allura, still facing the Queen. “I must insist you release my paladin.”

The Queen inclined her head, but after a moment sighed and waved a thin fingered hand, dispersing the shield. The guards reluctantly filed back into place, though their eyes were now glued to the paladins with a certain amount of animosity that hadn’t been there before. 

“For the sake of our peace, I assume you have a logical explanation for this information?” The Queen said to Allura, speaking for the first time in her saccharine voice as Keith stepped warily into the room. Pidge promptly glued herself to his side, looping one arm through his in a show of solidarity. The fingers on her other hand itched for her bayard. 

“There is.” Allura squares her shoulders, takes a few more steps forward. The other paladins close ranks around Keith, Shiro in front, eyeing the guards with barely disguised suspicion. “Recently, we discovered that our Red Paladin does share some amount of blood with the Galra. However, he was raised on a planet outside of Zarkon’s grasp with no knowledge of this. I assure you as Princess of Altea that there is no question of his loyalty or trustworthiness.”

“Don’t listen to them, Ryala!” From a shadowed corner of a room emerged a different Nelethe, this one shorter and skin paler. They shuffled forward, apparently elderly, approaching the throne with no trepidation. A jeweled dress hung off of their bony frame, dragging and jangling over the floor. They were dressed more extravagantly than the Queen herself, and Pidge felt her eyebrows rising. 

“We were only just liberated from those-- those beasts!” They continued, voice cracking. “And you would willingly invite one into our home, the heart of our kingdom!”

“Mother, please.” Queen Ryala chastised quietly. “These paladins saved us, I see no reason to distrust them.”

“Besides one of them being Galra!” The Nelethe, apparently the Dowager Queen, fixated an angry glare on Keith. Normally Keith would’ve glared back, made a challenge, but this was different. Keith had always been touchier about his Galra heritage. He was more likely to shrink back, to fold in on himself, like other people’s violent reactions were his fault somehow. It made Pidge’s blood boil on the best of days, and after a hard battle and waiting in the sweltering sun for hours, today was not one of them. 

“You should know,” She said without thinking, “That the Blade of Marmora helped us liberate you. You know, the  _ Galra  _ rebel group?”

Shiro hissed at her through his teeth. “Pidge, you aren’t helping.”

The Dowager Queen looked absolutely scandalized, her pink skin beginning to turn purple at the cheeks. Queen Ryala shot to her feet. 

“Enough.” She said, evenly, the same way Allura always did when negotiations got out of hand. “Mother, if you cannot be polite to our guests you should take your leave. As for you, paladins, all of you are welcome here, and I assure you I will not allow this information to influence our addition to the Coalition.”

After that the discussion turned to the usual things, the talks to be had and the party being thrown that night in their honor. Pidge tunes it all out and focused on keeping her hold on Keith. Lance nudges her other side, pinning her with a sad look.

“Don’t worry.” He said to them both in a stage whisper. “Things’ll be fine.” 

_ For once, Lance, I hope you’re right.  _

* * *

Keith hates parties. For the millionth time that night he finds himself wishing he was literally anywhere else in the universe than in that stone palace, underground, locked in with a crowd of fancily dressed aliens who all hated his guts. 

He absent mindedly tugged at the tight neckline of his own formal clothing, hating the way it constricted around his throat, hating Allura for making him wear it. At least he still had his knife, which Shiro had reluctantly allowed him to bring after a half an hour of arguing about it. Regardless of what the Queen said, he didn’t feel safe here, and he refused to go in unarmed. 

The party bustled and flowed around him, chattering voices bouncing off the cavern walls and echoing back, making the fifty or so odd guests sound like a hundred. It was easy to pick out his fellow paladins amongst the pink-skinned crowd, and they all appeared to be having a perfectly jolly time. 

Lance was doing what Lance did best-- located the prettiest person in the room and flirted his dignity right out the window. Hunk and Pidge were nestled in another corner of the ballroom, discussing tech with a few Nelethe engineers. Allura and Shiro lingered with the Queen and the nobility, making polite small talk. So with nowhere else to go, Keith hovered near Kolivan, who had attended as a gesture of good will from the Blade. None of the others looked as tense and on edge as Keith and Kolivan, but then again none of them were on the receiving end of the looks from the Nelethe. 

Kolivan was the more obviously Galra of the two, but by now the word about the Galra halfbreed Red Paladin had spread. Keith’s skin wouldn’t stop crawling. 

“You are nervous.” Rumbled Kolivan at some point. 

“No shit.” Keith mumbled back, and Kolivan sighed a bit. He held a small flute of some sort of drink delicately in his claws, and gulps it all down in one go before answering. 

“There is a reason the Blade operates in the shadows.” He says. If Keith didn’t know better, he’d say Kolivan sounded almost… sulky. 

Keith doesn’t get a chance to say anything back. A male Nelethe has materialized in front of them, and for once he doesn’t look overtly antagonizing. A bit wary, maybe, but nothing like some of the other looks he’d been receiving all night long. In his hand he carried another one of the drink flutes, this one filled with something silvery blue. 

“Red Paladin,” He said quietly, just under the din of the party going on around them. “This is for you. One of the most delicious drinks we have, made special for each of the paladins as thanks for our liberation.”

“You don’t have to thank us.” Keith replies with his best attempt at a smile. But Shiro’s voice is in his head, repeating what he’d said this afternoon.  _ Be polite. Don’t start a fight.  _ So he takes the glass, along with a tiny sip. It’s sweet and fruity, not bitter or salty like he’d been taught to expect, and he relaxes a little. Maybe, just maybe, not everyone was out to get him. 

The Nelethe turns to Kolivan next with a respectful incline of his head. “Kolivan, your presence is requested by the Queen.” 

Kolivan lets out a gruff grunt. “Very well. Politics call.” 

Keith takes another, larger, gulp of his drink as Kolivan moves away from him. It tastes nice, and it gives him something to do with his hands as he lingers on the edges of the room, quietly observing and watching over his team. He wasn’t any good at mingling or making friends, but being paranoid and keeping watch was something he excelled at. 

It was a few minutes later, and he was halfway through the glass, when he noticed himself blinking and squinting. Had the Nelethe raised the lights in the room? Maybe he was just tired. Yeah, that had to be it. Exhaustion blurring the lights and making them seem brighter than they were. 

“Red Paladin?” 

He turns to see another man approaching him, shouldering his way through the crowd. Sound was blurring together around him, fuzzing and crackling like radio static, making him strain to hear the mans words.

“It is a great honor to meet one of the legendary paladins.” He’s saying, with that strange smile/grimace. “I’ve heard tales of your prowess in battle-- most impressive!”

Keith tries to smile, distracted from how strange he feels by the fact that this guy doesn’t look angry or disgusted at all. In fact, for the first time the whole night, he actually looks like he  _ wants  _ to talk to Keith. 

He swallows down the rest of his drink and sets the glass on the ledge of a nearby pillar. He hasn’t said anything in response yet, but the man seems perfectly content to keep talking without one. 

“I’ve heard that you are quite partial to swords. I’m the captain of the private guard here, and I have an impressive collection. Would you be interested in a quick glance?” 

Keith wants to say no. The hairs on the back of his neck are standing straight up, and he’s not liking how his head aches or the lights blur overhead. But Shiro’s warning is still there,  _ Be polite _ , and its getting a little hard to think. He could go, murmur about blades for a few minutes, then make his way back to Shiro and ask to go back to the Castle. Yeah, that would work. 

“Alright.” He said, licking the last of the fruity sugar from his lips. “Why not?”

The man smiles, turns, and gestures for him to follow. Keith concentrates on following the black shirt he’s wearing through the crowd, managing to completely tune out his surroundings in his efforts just to not stumble over his own feet. 

They go down a few hallways, ones that get smaller and narrower as the get further from the ballroom. The man finally stops, opens up an inconspicuous door, and Keith barely sees the dark room beyond before those instincts he always prides himself on are screaming at him. On second thought, it might actually be Red.

_ Not safe, turn, run, danger danger danger! _

He takes a step back.

The man’s hand darts out, catching him by the tight collar of his formal shirt, making him choke as it constricted around his throat. He’s yanked hard, practically off of his feet, and tossed into the room. Any other time he would’ve caught himself, already been spinning around with his knife drawn, but whatever had been put in that drink made the room spin around him like a Tilt-A-Whirl. 

He hit the floor. His hands scraped against the stone and he let out a quiet hiss of pain. Then a weight is slamming against his back, forcing him flat to the floor, and a hand is twisting into his hair and pulling his head to the side. One of his hands scrambles for his knife, but before his fingers could find the hilt there’s a sharp pinch on his neck. 

“Galra scum.” The man hisses into his ear, and if Keith hadn’t been so out of it he could’ve laughed. Of course. He’d been stupid to think anyone would actually be nice to him. “Have you heard of kennerya venom, by any chance?”

_ Oh for fucks sake not this again.  _

The old familiar burn is already sinking in, giving way to needles, flowing from the injection site on his neck to prick all the way down to his toes. He could feel his muscles beginning to lock up, cries of pain building behind his teeth. 

“Deadly to Galra, you know.” The weight lifts off of him as the man stands, but Keith can do little more than curl into a ball and shake. This was way worse than last time. “At such a concentrated dose, I give you about… three vargas.”

No one knew where he was. No one knew to look for him. For all the team knew he’d just snuck off to go back to the Castle early. It had happened before, more than once. Beyond the haze of pain that had him tearing at the collar on his shirt feeling like he might suffocate, all he could think was  _ I am so fucked.  _

* * *

No one would ever know how much Shiro actually despised parties. Sure he could talk and smile and play nice with the various dignitaries, but deep down his paranoia was screaming. Intentions hidden behind fake smiles, daggers up sleeves, unsecured exits, all of that noise and confusion keeping him from being attuned to his surroundings. This party was even worse. 

Ever since Kolivan had joined their small circle, Shiro had been noticing the knife glances being thrown at the Galras back, and it made his stomach churn with nerves. To make matters worse, he hadn’t seen Keith since they’d first arrived at the party. Of course Keith had brought his knife and could handle himself if anyone was stupid enough to attack a paladin of Voltron, but nothing in this universe could stop Shiro from worrying. 

A slight ringing in his ears makes Shiro turn his head, but nothing seems out of order. He can see all of the other paladins in the crowd… except for Keith, and he frowns. It’s not unusual, Keith is known for hiding in shadowed corners and slipping out early, but something is nudging at the back of his mind, telling him something isn’t quite right. Almost the way it feels when Black is trying to tell him something, but not quite so composed. It was more distant… more frantic…

_ Red? _

The strange ringing intensifies, and Shiro sucks in a quick breath. He knew it, something was  _ wrong.  _

“Excuse me, please.” He said, shooting Allura a sharp look as discreetly as he can before walking away. As he leaves, he tucks two fingers against the small of his back. Their own personal signal for  _ Get away so we can talk.  _

A moment later the comm he has tucked in his ear crackled. They weren’t the most comfortable like Allura’s earrings, so he usually didn’t make the younger paladins wear them. He’s rethinking that decision now. 

_ “Shiro? What’s going on?” _ Allura’s voice is tight and low, carefully controlled to not reveal anything to the party guests around them. Shiro pitches his voice in kind.

“I think Red is trying to talk to me.”

_ “The Red Lion? You’re certain?” _

“It’s different from Black, and I haven’t seen Keith in a while.”

_ “Right. I’ll find Pidge and have her activate the tracker.” _

Even if he didn’t make the team wear comms, he  _ had  _ learned something from the Sendak episode. He’d had Pidge install trackers in their armor and any clothes they usually wore, ones that could be activated and broadcast their signal to a slim band he wore around his metal wrist. It was black as to blend in with the rest of the arm. To anyone who didn’t know, it was just another part of the prosthetic. 

For the next few minutes Shiro stalks the edges of the room, keeping a sharp eye out for any flash of crimson or dark hair. By his second lap he still hadn’t seen any sign of Keith, and his heartbeat was beginning to pick up. 

_ “Shiro,”  _ Allura’s voice staticked back into his ear.  _ “The tracker has been activated. I also had Pidge upload schematics of the building to your wristband.” _

“Roger that.”

He ducked into a dark corner before activating the wristband, trying his best to hide the blue Altean glow of the holographic map. He didn’t want to cause a fuss if nothing was wrong, but the itch at the back of his mind that was the Red Lion was insistent. 

_ Search, find, rescue, help! _

Bright against the blue of the map, Keith’s tracker signal lit up red. The small dot was several hallways away from the ballroom, and when Shiro zoomed in on the schematics he saw it tucked away in a side room. For a moment he almost dismissed it-- it wasn’t unusual for Keith to find somewhere quiet when the noise of parties got to be too much. But Red wasn’t having any of it. 

_ DANGER! SEARCH! FIND! RESCUE! _

“Alright, alright.” He mumbled aloud, already turning to start navigating his way to the side room. Even if it was nothing, it wouldn’t hurt to check, right?

It took him about ten minutes to find his way to the correct hallway, and this far from the ballroom things were much quieter. That’s how he was able to hear the thump, the scrape against a door, and he made a beeline for the door on his right. He was relieved to find it wasn’t locked, but the relief evaporated the moment it opened. 

Their missing Red Paladin was splayed out on the stone floor, breathing hard and drenched in sweat. Seconds later Shiro was kneeling beside him, frantically checking him over to try and find out what had happened. 

He’d torn the high collar right off of his shirt, and the red fabric lied in a crumpled ball next to him. Welts the same color marred his throat from his fingernails. His eyes are closed, and Shiro turns his head to face him and nearly screams. 

Part of his neck is swollen up black, and veins of the same sickly hue are crawling their way up his throat and towards his jawline. Keith shifts a bit, twitches his fingers in Shiro’s direction, then his body seizes and arches up from the floor. 

Shiro swears so colorfully his mother probably would have slapped him before activating his commlink. 

“Allura, I found him. I think he’s been poisoned. I’m going to find a back exit and take him back to the Castle. Round up the others and meet me there.” He doesn’t wait for a response-- he taps the link off and immediately sets to tracking down a back exit on his schematics. Five minutes later he’s got Keith in his arms and is hauling ass for the Castle. 

* * *

Allura had done them the service of contacting Coran so that he had the infirmary set up when Shiro came tearing into the Castle. Keith’s limp form was immediately taken from him and laid out on a cot, Coran shoving Shiro none too gently out of the way so that he could begin running scans. 

Moments later there are thundering footsteps in the hall, and the rest of the team rushes in with Allura and Kolivan at their heels, all of them pale and disheveled. 

“What the  _ fuck _ ?!” Pidge exclaims, making to rush for the bed. With a tug in his chest Shiro stops her, though he would like nothing more than to do the same. “Who did this to him? I swear to god when I track that motherfucker down I’ll--”

“Pidge.” Shiro has to fight to keep his tone even. “I need you to be calm. We all need to be calm right now.”

“Coran, have you discovered the toxin used?” Allura asks, keeping her composure despite the concealed fear in her eyes. Coran, already analyzing a blood sample, gives a growl of frustration. 

“It’s chock full of masking agents, this may take awhile.”

“What if we don’t  _ have  _ awhile?” Lance says hysterically. Hunk already has tears running down his face and Lance wasn’t far behind. Kolivan is standing near the back of the room, watching the proceedings with clear apprehension. Shiro was grateful for his presence; if the poison was specific to Galra, he could have valuable information. 

Suddenly a strange sound catches all of their attention, and everyone turns back to the cot. Keith’s position is contorted, head turned towards them and one arm stretched out in the direction of the other people in the room. He’s the one making the sound, some sort of strange shivering chirrup. The others look baffled, but Shiro has heard the sound before. He’d never heard anyone else make it, but Keith used to do it an awful lot, usually in his sleep. 

“What was that?” Lance was never afraid to ask a question, and now was no different. He hadn’t been expecting an answer. They were all surprised when he got one from Kolivans growling voice. 

“He’s calling for his pack.”

Shiro snaps around. The Galra is leaning up against the wall, arms crossed and head bowed like he can’t stand to look anymore, looking for all the world like a sad cat. 

“What does that mean?” Pidge demands in a high pitched voice. Her expression was wild, sinking further and further into panic. 

“Galra are a pack species, Green Paladin.” Shiro is having trouble deciphering Kolivans tone, his body language. The rest of them were panicked as they waited for Coran to figure out what kind of poison was used, but Kolivan just seemed sad and resigned. “When a member is in distress, they call for the others for help and comfort. The pack instincts are very strong-- I’m not surprised he has them.”

Back on the cot Keith chirps again and pauses, like he was waiting for something. The paladins exchange anxious looks and don’t move, unsure of what to do, and a soft whine follows. 

Shiro’s mind is running in frenzied circles. He shouldn’t get closer, shouldn’t get in Coran’s way as he tries to save his life, despite how much his heart is screaming for him to do so. Besides, maybe Keith could only have a pack bond or whatever with other Galra, maybe him being there wouldn’t help at all. 

Keith shifted, as though the Galra part of him was realizing that he wasn’t going to get what he wanted the Galra way. So he rouses, his eyes cracked open just ever so slightly, and he finally seems to remember how to use words. 

“‘Kashi?” 

Shiro’s eyes watered despite his efforts. Keith’s not asking for scarred veteran Shiro, or Garrison mentor Takashi. He’s asking for Kashi, his older brother, and all of Shiro’s resolve to stay out of Coran’s way flies right out the window. 

_ Fuck it.  _

No one stopped him as he moved forward, blazing a path towards the cot, falling to his knees and grasps Keith’s outstretched hand. His eyes opened all the way, bloodshot and teary, and another strange sound finds its way out. A rumble almost, relieved. 

“Hey, Keith, it’s ok. I’ve got you.”

“Kashi… hurts…”

“I know buddy.” He raises his other hand and runs it through Keith’s hair the way he know he likes, and Keith leans into it. “Do you know what they gave you?” 

“Kennerya.”

_ Fuck. _

Shiro pressed as close as he could while the room exploded around him. Pidge is shrieking something about killing someone, Lance is babbling about how much worse it looks than last time, Hunk hovers just behind Shiro as though he’s ready to supply hugs at the moment the signal is given. Coran scurries about the room, muttering something about ‘of course’ and ‘how could I have missed it’. Allura is stock still, pale with anger, and Kolivan is growling. 

Keith lets out a distressed keen at the sudden increase in volume. Shiro leans over him, doing his best to try and keep the rest of the room at bay. 

“It’s alright, it’s alright, I’ve got you, we can fix this.” Shiro levers him up a little, brings him forward so that he could lean against his shoulder. “We can fix this.”

Coran tsks from where he stands at a machine, frowning at the read out. “The dose he was given was far more concentrated than a normal kennerya bite. Probably engineered specifically to kill Galra.” 

“But we  _ can  _ fix it, right?” 

“Yes, Lance. If he’d been left for a few vargas alone, as was most likely the plan, maybe not. But we were lucky-- it’ll take longer and need more physical contact than last time to keep the pain at bay, but he should be fine.”

Apparently Keith can still hear them, because he chokes and says, “Yeah-- lucky--”

Kolivan straightens up from his position at the wall abruptly and turns to Allura.

“Princess, if I may have a moment?”

* * *

“I have seen kennerya poisoning before. It’s a common weapon used by guerilla soldiers, who aren’t always aware of the Blade’s presence. He will need a space where he can feel completely safe and secure. It would be best if the whole pack is present as much as possible, it will help to soothe the pain and speed the clearing of the toxin.”

“Of course.” Allura is trying her damndest to conceal her anger, but she’s not sure if she’s succeeding. She’s, what’s that word the paladins use,  _ fucking furious _ . One of her paladins, assaulted and poisoned at a victory celebration in their honor, for the gods sake, for nothing more than sharing the blood of their enemies. She could admit her own behavior when she’d found out hadn’t been admirable-- but she’d never hurt him. She had never even considered it. 

The moment she was certain Keith was safe and as comfortable as he could be, she was marching right back down to that planet and having a  _ very intense discussion  _ with Queen Ryala. 

“Is there anything else I should know?”

“Yes.” Kolivans lips are thin. “Kennerya venom has been known to cause feelings of abandonment, especially amongst Galra. You and your team must tread carefully.”

Allura nodded, already beginning to plan out accommodations. “Thank you for your assistance, Kolivan.”

“Of course, Princess. I… am sorry I didn’t keep a closer eye on him. I knew the locals were hostile to those with Galra blood, and I shouldn’t have let my guard down.” Kolivan seemed genuinely distraught, and Allura couldn’t help the pang of sympathy. She, too, was beating herself up for her lack of foresight. 

“It’s alright, Kolivan. The only one responsible is the one who did this to him.”

With a thankful smile and a request to keep him updated on Keith’s condition, Kolivan took his leave, and Allura poked her head back into the infirmary. Things in the room seemed to have calmed down, but there was still an aura of worry permeating the air. 

“Coran, paladins, may I speak to you? You may stay here, Shiro.”

Shiro didn’t even acknowledge she had spoken. 

Back in the hallway, she addressed her shaken team with as much composure as she could muster. 

“Coran, I would appreciate it if you would prepare the lounge. Mattresses, blankets, pillows, as many as you can find.”

“Right away, Princess.” 

“Paladins, I want you to change into more comfortable clothing and meet him there in ten doboshes. Kolivan said it would be best if all of you were there.”

“What are you going to do?” Pidge questioned, crossing her arms tightly. She’s shaking with contained rage, which Allura certainly could identify with. 

“I’m going back down there and speaking with the Queen.”

“I want to come.”

“I understand Pidge, but I need you to stay here.”

Pidge frowned unhappily, but Lance put a hand on her shoulder, wearing a solemn expression. 

“After Shiro, you’re the one closest to him.” He says quietly. “He needs you.”

Pidge bit viciously into her lip, but gave a reluctant nod and pulled away from Lance’s touch. 

“Fine. But tell me when you find who did it.”

* * *

Shiro’s knees were beginning to ache, but he refused to move away from Keith. He seemed to be becoming more aware, starting to string actual sentences together, but he was still groggy and unfocused, clumsy fingers grasping at Shiro as though he would disappear at any moment. 

“Did they drug you? Besides the toxin?” He asked softly, not pausing in his stroking of Keith’s hair. Keith hums a bit and nestles his head closer into the crook of Shiro’s neck. 

“I think so. Some guy gave me a drink when he came over to talk to Kolivan. It didn’t taste weird, so I took it. Trying not to be rude.”

Shiro cursed under his breath, recalling the talk he’d given Keith before the party.  _ Be polite.  _ God, had that backfired. 

“Felt weird, but--” Shiro feels him frown, “Wasn’t sure. Hard to think.” Suddenly he hisses, and Shiro clutches him tighter.

“Still hurts?” 

“Y-yeah.”

“How bad?”

“Nine.”

_ Shit _ . Last time Keith had to lock himself away for an entire night before the pain got to that level. Now it barely took no time at all, and the pain persisted even through physical contact that would have been enough to banish it before. Probably the effects of the concentrated dose. 

“I’m sorry.” Shiro murmured to him. He knows what Keith is going to say, but he needs to do this. “After what happened with the Queen, I should’ve kept a closer eye on you. I should’ve been more cautious.”

“‘S not your fault.” Says Keith, predictably, and leans into him. “How long was I gone?”

“Not very, maybe half an hour. Red was very insistent that I go look for you.” 

“You heard Red?”

“Yeah. Distantly, but she was there.”

Shiro feels the puff of breath across his throat as Keith laughs. “Good kitty.” He says, and Shiro smiles to himself. The smile vanishes when Keith says his next sentence. 

“Guy said it would take three vargas. I couldn’t do anything-- hurt too much.”

“Was this the same guy who gave you the drink?”

Keith shook his head, and Shiro made a mental note to tell Allura later. They were looking for two people, not just one. 

“Thought I was gonna die.”

Shiro wants to cry. The last time this happened, it had been an accident. An unexpected effect of a bug bite on a touch starved teammate. This time it was deliberate, an attempted assassination, a targeted attack on Keith’s Galra blood, and he’d like nothing more than to track down the people who did it and tear them limb from limb. 

“It’s alright now. You’re safe. You’re going to be fine.”

A slight swish from behind him alerts Shiro to someone entering the room, and the sharp clack of heels on the floor tells him it’s Allura. 

“Shiro,” She says, thankfully keeping her voice down, “I’ve told the others to meet in the lounge. Can you get yourself and Keith changed and join them?” 

Shiro makes himself nod. Yeah, he can do that. 

He just has to pull himself together. 

* * *

Twenty doboshes after they finished turning the lounge into a giant nest for the second time, Shiro staggered into the room, carrying Keith with him. He’s awake, kind of, but lies limp like a rag doll when Shiro deposits him gently onto the pile of mattresses and blankets. 

“He was drugged too.” Says Shiro, sensing the groups questions. Lance scoffs, trying to seem nonchalant. 

“I figured. If he hadn’t been we would’ve found a body with him.” He’s trying to lighten the mood, but all Pidge can do is swallow and bite her tongue to hold back the angry tears. She can’t help it; she blames herself. She told him she had his back, but when it came right down to it she let her guard down just like everyone else, and Keith paid the price for their complacency. 

Still, at least he’d stopped making those weird noises. They’d scared her, even after Kolivan’s explanation. Shiro didn’t seem alarmed by them, but that didn’t help either. They just sounded so sad. She never wanted to hear him make those sounds again. 

They’re all dressed in their Altean color coded pajamas, forming a sort of kaleidoscope as they arrange themselves into a cuddle pile around their teammate. Hunk sits back against the couches once again, forming the keystone of their heap, letting Keith rest his head in his lap. Pidge shoved herself against his left side, arms tight around his waist. Shiro is on the other side, running his fingers through Keith’s hair. He hadn’t stopped doing that since they’d gotten back. Again, Lance volunteers to be their footrest, though this time he lays on his back and taps out little rhythms against Keith’s calves, staring resolutely at the ceiling. 

Keith stays awake longer than they expect. Every so often, just as his breathing is about to even out, a limb will jerk or he’ll shudder and his heart rate will pick up again. Pidge listens to that heart beat and tries to relax. It’s probably just the venom spiking, she thinks, until she glances up at his face and notices his eyelids fluttering. 

“Hey, what’s the matter?” Her voice in the otherwise silent room draws the attention of the rest of the team, but none of them move. “Usually you’re out by now.”

“I’m fine.” He sounds raspy, but at least coherent. “Just… don’t wanna sleep.”

It doesn’t take long for Pidge to put the pieces together. Keith had been unconscious when Shiro brought him back to the Castle. The last time he fell asleep, he did so alone, in pain, and thinking he wouldn’t wake up again. She hugs him tighter. 

“We’ll all be here when you wake up.”

She can hear his heart beat calm at her words and knows she said the right thing. The other paladins follow her lead, pressing closer as Keith finally begins to drift off. 

_ You’ll be fine, Keith. I promise. _

* * *

Allura waits until the party has officially ended before returning to the palace. She’s changed out of her formal dress and into her combat gear, hair pulled high into a bun and blood singing. The diplomatic side of her wants to believe that the Queen had nothing to do with this, that the possibility of an alliance was still open to them, but this was war. And she was more than prepared to deal with the consequences if her best case scenario was not, in fact, the case. 

She surprises the guards when she arrives, alone, unannounced, and angry. She petulantly insists on waiting in the throne room while the Queen is roused and escorted there. She stands stock still before the throne like a statue, eyes trained on the door the Queen would emerge from. Fifteen doboshes later, she does.

She looks a bit disheveled, like she had gone to bed and been awakened from slumber, hastily dressed in an attempt to look dignified. Behind her trailed several nondescript advisors, as well as the Dowager Queen, still in her extravagant party wear and with a knife blade smirk on her lips.

Allura’s eyes narrow in her direction. 

“Princess Allura.” Says the Queen as she mounts the steps to her throne, pushing a stray lock of dust colored hair behind a pointed ear. “I was not expecting to see you again tonight.”

“Ryala.” Allura responds, purposefully leaving off the title in a move that has the others in the room giving her surprised looks. “For the sake of diplomacy, I will assume you have no knowledge of the events that occurred tonight.”

Ryala blinks, surprised. “I’m afraid I do not. What has happened?”

“A few vargas ago, during the victory celebration, my Red Paladin was drugged and attacked, by one of  _ your  _ people.” The Queen’s mouth dropped open, but Allura barreled on ahead. “He was poisoned with kennerya venom, and left to die.”

She carefully notes each person's reaction. The Queen covers her mouth with a hand, eyes wide. If she’s pretending, it's a good performance. The two or three advisors that had accompanied her to the throne room are murmuring to each other in low, worried tones. And the queen’s mother… the Dowager was practically  _ preening.  _

That quiznacking daughter of a yelmor. 

“Does he need medical attention?” The Queen was asking, nervously rising to her feet. The gauzy material of the gown she had tossed on floated etherally as she moved. “I can send a medical team.”

“No,” Allura responds, barely remembering to tack on, “Thank you. We are not strangers to the effects of the kennerya. He survived the attack and is expected to make a full recovery in a few movements.” 

The Dowager Queen suddenly stops and fastens narrowed eyes on Allura, who glares right back.  _ That’s right, you failed.  _

“But the fact remains-- he was attacked within your palace, by your people. Keith reports two men were involved, and that one of them mentioned being the captain of the private guard. I do not desire conflict with the Nelethe, but I must ask, and I urge you to answer honestly: Did you order your men to kill my paladin?”

Ryala’s hand had risen to her throat as her face turned purple. Her black eyes glittered with surprising anger.

“Princess Allura, I assure you with the utmost honesty, that I did not order, nor do I condone, any such attacks on the paladins of Voltron.  _ Including  _ the Red Paladin. My protection detail is covered by the Royal Guardians. The private guard is a separate palace force that takes its orders from--” Here she suddenly stops, and her head jerks around. “The Dowager Queen.”

All eyes turn to the elderly woman, who stands with her head held as high as her slumped shoulders would allow. Not a single sparkle of regret is to be found in her defiant expression.

“Mother?” Ryala’s voice trembles. “Mother, tell me you didn’t.”

The Dowager didn’t look at her daughter. Instead, she looks at Allura, eyes narrowed and angry. She doesn’t even bother to deny it.

“He’s Galra.” Is what she says, and the Queen sinks limply back onto her throne, distraught. 

“Mother, how could you?”

“He’s  _ Galra _ . Princess Allura, you would have been better off letting the poison take its effect.” She says, lip curling into a snarl. “The universe would have been better off.”

Allura squared her shoulders and looks at the proper queen, not giving the Dowager the satisfaction of an answer. 

“Queen Ryala, in light of these circumstances I will not insist on exacting our own punishment for this crime. However, I must insist that all of our peace talks be held in the Castle of Lions, and that no one in the Dowagers employ be allowed on board. Do you accept these terms?” 

“Yes Princess.” The poor woman looks exhausted. “Please accept my humblest apologies. I never intended for any of your paladins to be harmed.” She then turns a glare on her mother. “Guards, please take the Dowager Queen into custody. We will discuss what’s to be done with her in the morning.”

Allura smirks, smug and satisfied, and takes her leave. 

* * *

At first, Pidge isn’t sure what wakes her up. There are no alarms blaring, no one is having a nightmare, the lounge is completely still and mostly silent. It’s that mostly that finally catches her attention, because just above the usual hum of the Castle’s turbines is a quiet rumble. Which matched up perfectly with the vibration under her cheek, which she realizes as she wakes up, is coming from Keith. 

_ Wait, what? _

Her eyes pop open behind her crooked glasses. Keith and Shiro sleep on, but Hunk and Lance are awake, shooting each other excited grins. 

“Pidge!” Lance whispers excitedly when he notices her newfound level of consciousness. “Check it out! He does purr!”

“Oh my god it’s so cute.” Hunk fusses, flapping his hands happily over Keith’s head. The air movement makes him twitch, but there’s barely a hitch in his breath before the rumbling continues. The longer Pidge listens the more she’s realizing that Keith is, in fact, purring. And yeah, it is pretty cute. 

“Why has he never done it before?” Pidge murmurs, half to herself. “I wonder if he actively represses it, or if he just never notices he’s making Galra sounds.”

“He probably doesn’t know they’re Galra.” Hunk answers, finally beginning to settle down a bit. “Knowing what we do about how he grew up, he was probably taught not to make them.”

That thought sombers them, and Pidge tries to ignore how her heart twists behind her ribs, choosing instead to focus on the rumbling under her cheek. She’d grown up with dogs her whole life, but if this is what a cat purr was like, she could see why people liked them. It was steady, calming, and soon was lulling her back to sleep. However, before she could fall completely into the abyss, Keith stirred. 

The purring continued even as he blinked his eyes open, only pausing when he yawned and picked back up again immediately after. 

“Hey buddy,” Said Hunk, smiling down at the red paladin. “How’s the pain?”

“Three.” Is the groggy answer, which is slightly concerning. In a cuddle pile surrounded by four other people he shouldn’t be able to feel anything. Pidge wondered to herself exactly  _ how  _ concentrated the venom had been. 

The purring returns, distracting her from the spiral of worry, and she starts to relax. But then she feels Keith turn to stone underneath her, every muscle tensing up, and the rumble stopped abruptly. The whole group shifts in response to Keith’s tension, Shiro letting out a disgruntled groan as he was roused from his nap, but Keith isn’t relaxing like he would have if it was just a momentary distraction. Pidge finally looks up to see Keith with a hand over his mouth. 

“Hey.” Lance prodded at Keith’s leg until the other boy looked down at him. “Dude, it’s ok. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

Keith moves his hand to talk, but his voice is so quiet he may as well not have. 

“You… don’t think it’s weird?”

“Nah, Kolivan said some stuff about packs and shit. It’s just a Galra thing.”

“...Packs?”

Oh, right. Pidge had forgotten that Keith was barely conscious during Kolivan’s short explanation. She decides she’d better butt in and explain before Lance made a mess of things. 

“He said Galra are a pack species.” She said, keeping her head down so that she could listen to Keith’s heartbeat while she talked. “You were out for a few minutes at first, and there were masking agents in the toxin, so Coran couldn’t figure out what it was. You started making some weird sounds, and Kolivan said you were calling for your pack. I figure the purring is a Galra thing, too.”

For a long moment Keith is still and says nothing. Shiro takes the opportunity to speak. 

“Keith, I used to hear you make those noises all the time.” 

“You did?” He squeaks, and the sound is so anxious that no one dares to make a joke of it. 

“Yes. Mostly when you were asleep. And I never thought it was weird. I thought it was just a thing you did, like when Matt would mumble to himself when he was working on a program.”

By that time Pidge is fairly convinced that without the threat of agonizing pain hanging over his head Keith would’ve already fled the cuddle pile. As it was he was still stiff as a board and seemed to be shrinking away from them, trying to press himself into the pillows like he could melt away. 

“You don’t have to be ashamed of it, Keith.” Shiro is saying. Pidge watches as he resumes the hair petting he had stopped when he fell asleep. “It’s just who you are, and none of us will judge you for it.” 

Keith huffs. “I guess. I just… I used to… I wasn’t supposed to…” He stops with an irritated sigh and shakes his head. “Nevermind.”

They all understand without him explaining. At some point in his life, one or more people had made him feel ashamed of it, maybe punished him for what he had no control over. 

Pidge sits up a bit to study the visual progression of the poison. The black veins that had been spreading up his throat were a inch or two receded from where they had been before, but the injection site was just as dark and swollen. This was going to take awhile to heal, that much was clear. 

She lays back down, ready to snuggle back into the blankets and go back to sleep. Keith has begun to relax again as Shiro strokes his hair, and everyone was settling back into their positions. 

“Thank you.” Keith said suddenly. “All of you. For being here.”

Hunk is the first to answer, and takes the words from all of their mouths. “Of course. That’s what packs are for.”


End file.
